Published: Saturday, April 5, 2014 at 10:00 p.m.

Last Modified: Saturday, April 5, 2014 at 10:57 p.m.

The wild boar that a Carolina hunter killed last month weighed more than 500 pounds and took up the whole rear end of a pickup truck, wire services reported.

The big wild hog was believed to be a descendant of the pigs that accompanied Hernando de Soto to the Southeast in the 16th century.

De Soto wasn’t the first Spanish explorer to set foot in Alabama — many attribute that honor to Panfilo de Narvaez in 1527 — but his 1540 entry into the state was the first to be accompanied by pigs.

Intended for food, they bred rapidly. De Soto landed in Florida in 1538 with just 13 sows. By the time his expedition ended, five years later, it had almost 700 pigs, according to one historian.

I always wondered how the early Spanish got their entourage of men, horses, attack dogs, hogs and whatever else they brought with them through the region’s dense forests. Then I read an account that said American Indians kept the woodlands like parks, for ease in movement and in hunting. The only exceptions were for territorial boundaries and buffer zones between warring villages.

I’m calling them Indians here. Even though it’s now politically correct, the term “native American” doesn’t do much for me. I don’t have a drop of Indian blood in my veins, but I’m a native American. I was born here. My family has been in this country since the 17th century.

“Indigenous people,” “Amerind” — lots of terms have been suggested, but even activist Russell Means said he preferred “American Indian” to “Native American.” Controversy continues today.

In any event, I don’t fret about Hernando’s hogs anymore. Lately, however, I’ve been wondering about his communications with the Indians.

Sometimes they kidnapped Indians and made them serve as translators. I’m not sure how, but maybe they learned some sort of pidgin Spanish.

Also, de Soto ran into a native Spaniard named Juan Ortiz, presumably from the earlier Narvaez expedition. Ortiz had lived with the Indians for more than a decade and he talked the talk.

There’s a great story here. Narvaez, looking for gold, had tortured an Indian chief and his tribe. Later on, with Narvaez gone, the chief and tribe took it out on Ortiz. He even was roasted on a spit but managed to survive, according to one historian.

The chief’s daughter was in love with Ortiz and she helped him to escape to a friendlier village — setting up a story for Capt. John Smith a century later.

Narvaez’ bunch generally had a rough time. A hurricane hit them and wrecked their ships. They made some rafts and paddled up the Gulf Coast, but Narvaez was swept out to sea and presumably drowned.

Hostile Indians attacked the Spaniards. They became prisoners and were held for months.

Somehow, a man named Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca and three companions eventually escaped. Completely lost, they spent almost eight years wandering around America before they found the Spanish again.

In the interim, the king of Spain picked de Soto to lead the expedition to Florida. De Soto had brought home gold from South America. He could do it again, the king reasoned.

Cabeza de Vaca — whose story was told entertainingly some 400 years later by comedian Lord Buckley, who titled it “The Gasser” — eventually came home empty-handed but with a fabulous story about being regarded as a faith healer by the Indians he met in his wanderings.

According to one historian, de Soto asked Cabeza de Vaca to come along on the 1538 expedition; he had experience and would be a good interpreter. But Cabeza de Vaca refused.

So de Soto, bristly, angry and dangerous — the Indians said he and the Spanish stank, and they surely were right — thundered through the Southeast, snagging Ortiz, taking Indian captives, killing them right and left and hoovering up all the food wherever he went. Still, he found no gold, the thought of which consumed him.

Yet gold in the Southeast always was a chimera. Some Indians told de Soto it was just over that mountain, or just a few days away — anything to get rid of him and his ravenous horde.

De Soto, with gilded visions dancing in his head, was lost much of the time. He had no idea where he was. Historians and archaeologists over the years have faced a nightmare in trying to retrace his route. It still hasn’t been nailed down.

De Soto didn’t care about a route. Gold was on his mind.

His expedition barged into Alabama and possibly mowed its way through Tuscaloosa County. There was an epic battle with Indian forces under the chief for whom this county and city were named — Tuscaloosa means “Black Warrior” in Choctaw, so you can throw a river in there, too — but there was no gold.

De Soto made it as far as Arkansas, but he died, and what was left of his expedition struggled back to Spain — without the gold.

Cabeza de Vaca, who had turned down an offer to join de Soto, found a different sort of gold — not from the interior of the Southeast but from the interior of his soul.

His discovery, he wrote the Spanish emperor, was “the power of maintaining life in others’ lives within each of us.”

It’s a pity that no one else realized the value of what Cabeza de Vaca found here. They were all such hogs for gold.

Ben Windham is retired editorial editor of The Tuscaloosa News. His email address is Swind15443@aol.com.

<p>It was bristly, angry and dangerous.</p><p>And BIG.</p><p>The wild boar that a Carolina hunter killed last month weighed more than 500 pounds and took up the whole rear end of a pickup truck, wire services reported.</p><p>The big wild hog was believed to be a descendant of the pigs that accompanied Hernando de Soto to the Southeast in the 16th century.</p><p>De Soto wasn't the first Spanish explorer to set foot in Alabama — many attribute that honor to Panfilo de Narvaez in 1527 — but his 1540 entry into the state was the first to be accompanied by pigs.</p><p>Intended for food, they bred rapidly. De Soto landed in Florida in 1538 with just 13 sows. By the time his expedition ended, five years later, it had almost 700 pigs, according to one historian.</p><p>I always wondered how the early Spanish got their entourage of men, horses, attack dogs, hogs and whatever else they brought with them through the region's dense forests. Then I read an account that said American Indians kept the woodlands like parks, for ease in movement and in hunting. The only exceptions were for territorial boundaries and buffer zones between warring villages.</p><p>I'm calling them Indians here. Even though it's now politically correct, the term “native American” doesn't do much for me. I don't have a drop of Indian blood in my veins, but I'm a native American. I was born here. My family has been in this country since the 17th century. </p><p>“Indigenous people,” “Amerind” — lots of terms have been suggested, but even activist Russell Means said he preferred “American Indian” to “Native American.” Controversy continues today.</p><p>In any event, I don't fret about Hernando's hogs anymore. Lately, however, I've been wondering about his communications with the Indians.</p><p>Sometimes they kidnapped Indians and made them serve as translators. I'm not sure how, but maybe they learned some sort of pidgin Spanish.</p><p>Also, de Soto ran into a native Spaniard named Juan Ortiz, presumably from the earlier Narvaez expedition. Ortiz had lived with the Indians for more than a decade and he talked the talk.</p><p>There's a great story here. Narvaez, looking for gold, had tortured an Indian chief and his tribe. Later on, with Narvaez gone, the chief and tribe took it out on Ortiz. He even was roasted on a spit but managed to survive, according to one historian.</p><p>The chief's daughter was in love with Ortiz and she helped him to escape to a friendlier village — setting up a story for Capt. John Smith a century later.</p><p>Narvaez' bunch generally had a rough time. A hurricane hit them and wrecked their ships. They made some rafts and paddled up the Gulf Coast, but Narvaez was swept out to sea and presumably drowned.</p><p>Hostile Indians attacked the Spaniards. They became prisoners and were held for months.</p><p>Somehow, a man named Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca and three companions eventually escaped. Completely lost, they spent almost eight years wandering around America before they found the Spanish again.</p><p>In the interim, the king of Spain picked de Soto to lead the expedition to Florida. De Soto had brought home gold from South America. He could do it again, the king reasoned. </p><p>Cabeza de Vaca — whose story was told entertainingly some 400 years later by comedian Lord Buckley, who titled it “The Gasser” — eventually came home empty-handed but with a fabulous story about being regarded as a faith healer by the Indians he met in his wanderings. </p><p>According to one historian, de Soto asked Cabeza de Vaca to come along on the 1538 expedition; he had experience and would be a good interpreter. But Cabeza de Vaca refused.</p><p>So de Soto, bristly, angry and dangerous — the Indians said he and the Spanish stank, and they surely were right — thundered through the Southeast, snagging Ortiz, taking Indian captives, killing them right and left and hoovering up all the food wherever he went. Still, he found no gold, the thought of which consumed him. </p><p>Yet gold in the Southeast always was a chimera. Some Indians told de Soto it was just over that mountain, or just a few days away — anything to get rid of him and his ravenous horde.</p><p>De Soto, with gilded visions dancing in his head, was lost much of the time. He had no idea where he was. Historians and archaeologists over the years have faced a nightmare in trying to retrace his route. It still hasn't been nailed down.</p><p>De Soto didn't care about a route. Gold was on his mind.</p><p>His expedition barged into Alabama and possibly mowed its way through Tuscaloosa County. There was an epic battle with Indian forces under the chief for whom this county and city were named — Tuscaloosa means “Black Warrior” in Choctaw, so you can throw a river in there, too — but there was no gold. </p><p>De Soto made it as far as Arkansas, but he died, and what was left of his expedition struggled back to Spain — without the gold.</p><p>Cabeza de Vaca, who had turned down an offer to join de Soto, found a different sort of gold — not from the interior of the Southeast but from the interior of his soul.</p><p>His discovery, he wrote the Spanish emperor, was “the power of maintaining life in others' lives within each of us.”</p><p>It's a pity that no one else realized the value of what Cabeza de Vaca found here. They were all such hogs for gold.</p><p>Ben Windham is retired editorial editor of The Tuscaloosa News. His email address is Swind15443@aol.com.</p>